I collect records. And cats. I don't have any cats right now. But if I'm taking a walk and I see a cat, I'm happy.
A home without a cat — and a well-fed, well-petted and properly revered cat — may be a perfect home, perhaps, but how can it prove title?
I'm not sure why I like cats so much. I mean, they're really cute obviously. They are both wild and domestic at the same time.
I've always been mad about cats.
Oh cat, I'd say, or pray: be-ootiful cat! Delicious cat! Exquisite cat! Satiny cat! Cat like a soft owl, cat with paws like moths, jewelled cat, miraculous cat! Cat, cat, cat, cat.
It is impossible for a lover of cats to banish these alert, gentle, and discriminating friends, who give us just enough of their regard and complaisance to make us hunger for more.
Five cats and a woman. That is all I need in life.
In ancient times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this.
I like cats a lot. I've always liked cats. They're great company. When they eat, they always leave a little bit at the bottom of the bowl. A dog will polish the bowl, but a cat always leaves a little bit. It's like an offering.
